Scarcely were the words uttered than a hollow laugh broke from the farther end of the chamber, and a deep voice exclaimed—“I am ready to take you to her.” “I need not ask who addresses me,” said Surrey, after a pause, and straining his eyes to distinguish the figure of the speaker in the gloom.
“I will tell you who I am,” rejoined the other. “I am he who visited you once before—who showed you a vision of the Fair Geraldine—and carried off your vaunted relic—ho! ho!”
“Avoid thee, false fiend!” rejoined Surrey, “thou temptest me now in vain.”
“You have summoned me,” returned Herne; “and I will not be dismissed. I am ready to convey you to your mistress, who awaits you in King James's bower, and marvels at your tardiness.”
“And with what design dost thou offer me this service?” demanded Surrey.
“It will be time enough to put that question when I make any condition,” replied Herne. “Enough, I am willing to aid you. Will you go?”
“Lead on!” replied Surrey, marching towards him.
Suddenly, Herne drew a lantern from beneath the cloak in which he was wrapped, and threw its light on a trap-door lying open at his feet.
“Descend!”
Surrey hesitated a moment, and then plunged down the steps. In another instant the demon followed. Some hidden machinery was then set in motion, and the trap-door returned to its place. At length, Surrey arrived at a narrow passage, which appeared to correspond in form with the bulwarks of the keep. Here Herne passed him, and taking the lead, hurried along the gallery and descended another flight of steps, which brought them to a large vault, apparently built in the foundation of the tower. Before the earl had time to gaze round this chamber, the demon masked the lantern, and taking his hand, drew him through a narrow passage, terminated by a small iron door, which flew open at a touch, and they emerged among the bushes clothing the side of the mound.